The fact that Hornsby's piano work sometimes sounded like he was born with four hands certainly didn't hurt.

With his 2002 release, Big Swing Face, Hornsby has abandoned practically everything that made him great.

Where to begin? I'll hit you with the biggest shock first: Hornsby doesn't play his beloved baldwin piano on any of the album's eleven tracks. It's synthesizers and vintage organs all the way. His producer even synthed his voice, Cher-style, on a few tracks. Unbelievably this actually works on The Chill because his altered voice is juxtaposed against his natural one. Cute trick, I'll admit, but it falls flat on the rest of the album.

All this is galling enough, but the most horrible part is that the songwriting is artistically sound. His lyrics, while nowhere near as good as those found on Spirit Trail or Hot House are still decent; his meanings are obscured as always (though he appears to have ditched the story song format. For shame!) but they rhyme cleverly and compliment his melodies well. I've heard these same songs performed by Hornsby solo, just him and his piano and they're very, very good.

Your cymbal crashing, your teeth gnashing
You're in your element
We love to see you, we'd love to be you
You're in your elephant
Costume, do whatever you've got to do
To make the people scream for you
We love you when you've got your